


to make an end is to make a beginning

by Snacky



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, R plus L equals J
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 17:00:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7810039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snacky/pseuds/Snacky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lyanna Stark survives the Tower of Joy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to make an end is to make a beginning

**Author's Note:**

> For last year’s words belong to last year’s language   
> And next year’s words await another voice.   
> And to make an end is to make a beginning.   
> \-- TS Eliot

She gives the babe to Ned.

They argue about it, of course — Ned doesn't want to listen to her reasons at first, but Lyanna knows what will happen, if she doesn't do this, if she tries to keep her son. 

Her son. The words are marvelous, just as her baby is, and she holds him tight in her arms, never wanting to let go, wanting to stare at him, to memorize the shape of his face, and the slope of his nose, the serious look in her poor boy's eyes, and the way his mouth curls when he yawns. She wants to put him to her breast and claim him as her own. But she can't, because it would kill them both.

She convinces Ned, eventually. Her body may be weak, but her mind isn't, and she can't keep the child, can't be his mother. Robert will kill him. Will kill her too. Just like he killed Rhaegar. Lyanna doesn't mind the thought of her own death so much, but the death of her sweet boy, only an hour old and already the light of her life — well, it's unthinkable.

Or it should be. But she has to think about it, she has to speak about it, to save him. Ned agrees to what she's asking — he has no choice, really, for Lyanna will not relent. "Promise me," she begs, she who never begged for anything before, who was too proud to plead to any man. But for her boy, she'll sacrifice whatever pride she has, whatever Rhaegar has left her. "Promise me, Ned. Promise me you'll keep him safe, and raise him as your own. Robert will kill him if he finds out. You must promise me."

Ned promises, as she knew he would. He saw the bodies of Elia's children, he knows what Robert and the Lannisters would do to her son, to Rhaegar's only surviving child. The news of Princess Elia's death, of Aegon's and Rhaenys', had even reached the Tower of Joy, and Lyanna's tears over them were many and bitter, knowing her fault in their deaths.

Lyanna thinks of them, Rhaegar's wife, and the children she couldn't save, as she places her son in Ned's arms. Those children are lost now, and she must save her son, the boy Rhaegar was so obsessed with her bearing. "He must come from the union of a Stark and a Targaryen. He must be born of ice and fire." 

She was a foolish girl, and she let his sweet words win her over, when really, Rhaegar wasn't that much better than Robert. Robert wanted her as a trophy, and Rhaegar, for all his songs and promises and declarations of love — well, he wanted her a broodmare. She's had endless hours, here in her prison tower, to think about it, to think about what she really did when she ran off with the Prince. He loved her, and he would swear devotions to her until his dying day — a day which came far too soon — but really, the thing he was most focused on was getting a babe on her. Lyanna loved him when she ran off with him, and she still loves him now, even now that he's gone and left her forever, after promising to return and give her and their child the world. But she was foolish to love him, just a silly, selfish, little girl with songs of romance and adventure clouding her mind.

Still, she wanted to escape Robert, just as much as Rhaegar wanted a child. There was love, but theirs was a match of mutual desperation. And now she's here, all alone, placing her son in her brother's arms, and her desperation has turned to iron-clad determination. She's made so many mistakes, and so many have suffered, so many have died. Her father, Brandon, Rhaegar, Elia, Arthur… too many names, too many people who are gone, because she was a selfish girl. But her babe… well, he won't die, not if she makes this sacrifice, not if she gives him to Ned. She's determined to do it, to save at least one life, the only one that matters to her now.

She's still selfish, Lyanna thinks. But only for her son. She's selfish enough to want him to live, to want him to grow up and be safe, and be happy. She looks at him, fussing as Ned holds him, and she sighs, wondering if her boy could ever be happy, a boy who will grow up without his mother, a boy whose prophesied birth led to a war. 

"Have you given him a name, Lyanna?" Ned's voice is hushed and small as he peers down into her son's face. He's not pleased with what she's begged of him, but he's agreed, and her brother is the most honorable man she knows. He'll do whatever he needs to, whatever it takes, to keep her boy safe, and really, that's all Lyanna can ask now.

"No." She shakes her head, and a memory comes to her, of Rhaegar lying in bed beside her, his hand cupped over her belly, and listing out Targaryen names for their child. But that seems like a dream, it was so long ago, and her boy is going to be a Stark now. Or a Snow, at least. He needs a different sort of name, to keep him safe. "You pick a name, Ned. He's your son now."

Ned just looks up at her, sorrow etched on his long face. "Lya…"

"Give him a good northern name. Name him after father, or Brandon. Or name him after one of the Starks of old." She's tired — exhausted really, from the birth of the babe, and weak. She's done all the arguing she can do, and soon they'll need to leave this place, but she must rest first, before she does. And as her eyes slip shut, the last thing she hears is Ned's voice.

"Jon. His name is Jon."


End file.
